


Poofy Vuitton

by Moskovie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff and Fashion, M/M, Viktor is a fashionista, Viktor spelled with a k, Yuuri is a confident bean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 05:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moskovie/pseuds/Moskovie
Summary: Yuuri arrives home to find multipul handbags of various big-name brands on the floor, what he doesn't expect is why they are there, but of course, there can only be one culprit, Viktor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Help, I'm on a 14 hour trip to New York and can't sleep in moving things, especially surround by people, it's 3:12 am and I want to die.

When Yuuri came home that day he really didn’t expect to see the couch in the kitchen and every single one of Viktor’s handbags in the living room.

It had been a stressful day for Yuuri, with moving to Russia with Viktor and changing home rinks, he was getting no break from Yakov, he was constantly pushing Yuuri to win gold.

Of course Viktor still took his turn as Yuuri’s coach but even Viktor had to admit, Yakov did it better. That and Viktor knew that Yakov was easier on Yuuri than on anyone else who trained at the rink. The long time coach pushed Viktor the hardest.

Thus it was Viktor’s break day. In which he could stay in their shared apartment, watch kids’ cartoons, eat cereal, attempt baking, paint his and Makkachin’s nails (with doggy nail polish of course) and just relax and recover.

Yuuri admits that his fiancé needs a break once in awhile, at practice, he’s never seen Viktor fall so much, or limp out of the building. Sometimes all Yakov’s yelling and pressure gets to him, Yuuri notices.

  
But as all those things do tend to get to Viktor, none of it could explain why their couch was in their kitchen or why every single one of Viktor’s bags, from Michael Kors to Valentino to Pradal was out in their living room.

His jaw dropped when he stepped in the door.

“Viktor? I’m home?”

And barely a minute later the most happy looking fiancé bounded out of their bedroom. He had a bounce in his step and tripped over two YSLs before reaching Yuuri to give him a quick kiss.

“Mind explaining?” Yuuri asked distractedly.

“OH!” Viktor suddenly had a guilty look on his face. “Sorry for the mess, but I was experimenting.”

“I’m not sure how Armani counts as experimenting but I’ll take your word on it.”

“Well then, I would be happy to accentuate my synopsis.”

“Okay Mr. College-dropout.”

“Shh, school is boring and I’m covered in life.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Anyway, you know how Makkachin thinks he’s a lapdog?”

Yuuri was much to aware. And much like Viktor the dog was all over Yuuri, they would trade places sitting in the Japanese man’s lap while watching movies or cuddling and Yuuri would always make the joke that it was a case of “ like father like son”.

Not to mention that usually Makkachin came running to greet Yuuri at the door along with Viktor but today he didn’t.

“Okay well It got me to thinking, what if Makkachin thinks he’s a chihuahua?”

“Vitya, your poodle is not a chihuahua.”

“I know, I know, big dogs think they’re little dogs and little dogs think they’re big dogs. I know Yakov had a shih tzu once and it would growl and bark at rottweilers until they tucked their tails between their legs.”

“That’s because Yakov owned it.”

“Probably.” Viktor laughed, “So I was all like, chihuahuas fit in these little bags and get carried around in them and I thought, well I’m totally gay enough for that shit, so I dug out all of my bags to find one that Makka would fit in.”

Yuuri looked around the room. “Did you find one?”

“Actually, yes. And he looks so adorable!”

“I want to know how he feels about this.”

“Probably fabulous, I did Makkachin’s nails earlier and my Chanel sunglasses look smashing on him, also he’s loving the Louis Vuitton carry on bag, I think we should him with us wherever we go!”

“I don’t know how many airlines would like a standard poodle in a Louis Vuitton bag but okay.”

And with that Viktor grabbed his fiancé’s hand and dragged him their room.

He burst out in tears the moment he saw the dog.

Makkachin was needless to say, pimped, sitting quite comfortably in a monogram pattern Louis Vuitton, a pastel cashmere silk scarf and of course the Chanel glasses. The dog could have taken part in any fashion show around the world and worked it.

The best part was the poodle seemed to be enjoying it. Again, like father like son, the dog knew how to dress.

Viktor put on his own do and picked up a hairbrush. Talking into it he said, “Makkachin, over here, may I ask who you’re wearing? And how do you feel being the most fancy and expensive dog?” He said in his best reporter voice. Believe it when you hear it, Viktor’s had to deal with a lot of reporters.

Yuuri was out of breath and pulled out his phone, “Get in the frame, I’m talking a picture.”

“Do you mean photoshoot?”

“Yes, I mean photoshoot.”

The couple shared the laugh and Viktor sat next to the dog, who was promptly sitting on their bed in a couple thousand dollar bag. Viktor lifted his foot in the air and did the duck lips thing. Yuuri laughed and took a picture.

The Russian man gasped when he saw the picture, taking the photo and showing it to Makkachin as well. The poodle looked at his master, and barked once before whining.

“YUURI! The lighting in this is awful! Enough Makka agrees!”

The dog whined again. Viktor threw himself off the bed and adjusted the curtains of the aesthetically pleasing bedroom before situating himself in an even dumber position next to the dog in a bag.

Makkachin put his paws on the opening of the bag and Viktor did the splits on the bed next to him, his own pair of glasses slipping down his nose as Yuuri took a second picture, and then a third, fourth and fifth, etc. The silver-haired man doing a more ridiculous pose every time.

It was only when Yuuri’s phone said storage was full did they stop taking pictures and look through them, cuddling on the bed. By now Makkachin had tipped the Louis Vuitton over to climb out and crawl onto the couple.

Suspicions confirmed, Makkachin is a lapdog for life.

Though the thing with 65 pound dogs is that it serious hurts when they try and get comfortable and end up pawing you in the crotch. The pair had experienced it many times, but could really do nothing but laugh at the other.

It was Yuuri’s turn this time.

Viktor only laughed at him until Makka threw a heavy paw onto Viktor’s face. Then Yuuri laughed.

The poodle was still wearing the scarf and Chanel sunglasses when Viktor got the great idea to try and lift him while he was still in the bag.

Five minutes later, they had given up. Makkachin was trying to get the glasses off and Viktor was discouraged that his dog was done with his shit.

Yuuri pulled the sunglasses and scarf off the dog, setting it on the dresser and ruffled the poodle’s droopy ears before getting him some dinner.

“What do you want for dinner while I’m at it Vitya?” He called to the living room where Viktor was picking up his handbags. He was still wearing his glasses when he looked at Yuuri with seventeen bags lining his arms, getting a giggle out of the younger man.

“Either you should make Katsudon or we should order out.”

“I would have to shopping and it’s a bit late.”

“Alright, take out it is?”

“Yep.”

“We should get something French.”

“Sounds good.”

“Red wine.”

“Fuck yes.”

“Although you have to ask if they make Japanese baguettes.”

“What are-? Oh.” Yuuri was probably as red as the wine. “Just stop.”

Viktor laughed and proceeded to take his bags back to their walk in closet that was as big as their guest bedroom. One thing Yuuri learned since moving in with Viktor is never fuck with a gay man’s closet. He’ll probably throw some designer heel at you, or maybe Fendi or BCBG.

  
As the day was almost over, the two cuddled on the couch eating Macaroons, when none other than Makkachin hopped up onto the sofa and into his owners laps. Viktor pet him and his fluffy cheeks.

“Aweeee, he’s just like a giant fluffy baby!”

Yuuri laughed and added everything that happened that day into the growing list of all the things he loved about Viktor. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago? Beta'd by my helicopter (sibling) hope it wasn't too stupid.


End file.
